Ghost
by letters
Summary: The year is 1910. A vacation to see an old friend in Paris turns into an incredible journey across the globe.  Quatre and the eccentric genius known as the "Ghost" must unravel the mystery behind a secret sect threatening to take over the modern world.


For the third time now, autumn has come. It is already turning the trees along Paris's streets those familiar shades of gold and red. The tree outside my bedroom window hasn't grown much, and I guess I shouldn't be surprised. It seems that nothing at all has changed in this City of Lights, although I would be lying if I said the notion didn't give me a twinge of irritation. Things should be different; though as to how, I could not say. It just nags me that so much should have transpired on the face of this planet, yet the world goes on as it always has, completely ignorant of the endless heartache, the countless struggles and battles waged on its surface. The Earth really cares not for her children, and nature is a cruel and most unforgiving mistress.

'Well, what did you expect? You really are the stupidest child...'

I smile to myself as I absently pat the small ball of fur on my lap.

If you were here now, you would say something to that effect, I'm sure. And then you would laugh, as my muddled ponderings on existence and life always seemed to be a never ending source of amusement to you. And, as I felt I grew to know you more, I would laugh too.

The cat on my lap awoke and stretched languidly with a yawn. Then, the ever haughty Siamese jumped onto my writing desk and sauntered out the window to lie down on the small veranda. It is a small mercy that she tolerates me now, as we have had a rather, lets just say, unpleasant past. She seems to realize that she has been entrusted to my care, and thus treats me with general apathy, which is a great deal preferable to outright hatred. And sometimes, she is the only thing reminding me that what happened several years before was not just a bizarre dream. It occurs to me now that I am sitting in the same room, in the exact same chair, as I was when this grand adventure first began.

It was the fall of 1910, and I had just arrived in Paris for the first time. I was young. I was foolish. I was dressed in my finest suit, and at any moment now, my family's ever faithful, ever boring maid, Paula, would knock on the door...

* * *

><p><strong>Knock, knock.<strong>

"Mr. Winner? You said to alert you when it was five o'clock!" Paula's monotone voice was muffled through the door.

"Thank you, Paula! I'll be right down!"

I paused to straighten my bow tie in the full length mirror, and looked myself up and down. With a regretful sigh, I ran my fingers through my bangs to sweep them back, and placed my top hat over them. I was small for my age, and I felt that, even dressed to the nines, I still looked like a child with my fine blond hair and large blue eyes. Looking back now, I laugh, because I was a child. Already feeling some of that typical joi de vivé that pervaded Paris at the time, I tilted my hat to the side and snapped my fingers at my reflection. So what if I wasn't the epitome of attractive for the time! I was the great Quatre Raberba Winner, heir to the Winner fortune and the largest mercantile business in the East! I held my head up high and puffed out my chest, turned heels and left the room in confident stride, trying to ignore the nervous beating in my chest. Paula held my coat and gloves out to me as I approached the front door of the penthouse.

"Thank you, Paula," I said, trying to make my voice sound lower than usual. Paula quirked one of her thick, brown eyebrows at my sad efforts, but bowed graciously all the same.

"Be safe, Mr. Winner. When shall I expect you back?"

Just then, a brougham pulled up to the steps and stopped. An all too familiar face appeared as the door swung open.

"Hey, buddy boy! Let's get this show on the road, or we'll be late!"

I quickly looked at Paula and shrugged with a grin. "Don't wait up for me!" I called to her over my shoulder as I raced to the carriage. I knew she was scowling at me, but I didn't care. As soon as the door was latched tight, I found myself caught in a giant, bear hug by my longtime friend.

"Q-man! I'm so glad you could make it! How was the trip? How are you?"

Deprived of oxygen in my friend's death grip, I could hardly respond. "Duo, please!" I managed to squeak out. I was practically choking on his long braided hair, which was crowding my face. I patted him frantically, and he relinquished his hold with a sheepish grin.

"Sorry, Q," he scratched the back of his head. "I guess it's been a while, huh? I shouldn't be so informal."

I sniffed at him with a mocking air as I straightened my hat. "Yes you would do well to remember your place, my good sir!" I said in the haughtiest voice I could muster. "After all, I'm 18 now!"

"My, my, you're practically a lady!" Duo snorted.

Hard as I tried, I couldn't keep my face straight and laughed heartily. It really wasn't polite, but the impish American always had that effect on me. Manners and customs suddenly seemed absurd when in the company of Duo Maxwell.

"It's good to see you too, Duo. I can't believe it's been a year."

"Yeah, a lot's happened, huh? I'm sorry to hear about your father. I'm glad you could visit before you took over the estate."

I smiled, graciously. My father had passed away a few months earlier from what we could only assume was a heart attack. Being that I was of age and the only son, my father's successful mercantile business and all of his properties in Tunisia were bequeathed to me. I suppose most men would have been ecstatic to inherit a fortune, but I was fairly indifferent. I did not imagine my life would change much, except that now I'd have to attend boring business meetings every now and then and sign my name a million times a day to various documents. I found the family business to be very droll, which is why I gladly accepted the invitation from my friend to visit with him in Paris, where he was now living.

"Thank you." I said at length. He gave my knee a supportive pat.

"You, my friend, are going to love the Opera House. It's absolutely amazing! Seventeen stories high! That's even bigger than your house, I believe!"

"And you're a mechanic there?"

"Well, I prefer the term "expert prop technician", but yeah. I make sure anything with gears is running smoothly, and occasionally have to build some things."

"Sounds like fun."

"Oh, it is! You should have seen this trek I laid for a boat scene! Looked like it was really sailing up and down over waves! The trick is to have a system of pulleys in place, and then a small pump at the front of the boat, but a motor would have been far too large, so I had to find a way around it."

I smiled and nodded, doing my best listen. As it always did when talking about machinery, my friend's face turned very serious, and he knit his brows together in concentration, gesturing with his hands to describe physical details of whatever he was talking about. He was still the same old Duo I had known since I was ten, but something was different. It wasn't just the fact that he had grown taller and was dressed in finer clothes. There was a new air of maturity about him, and he seemed a great deal more settled. The Duo I had grown up with never stayed in the same place for long. Some restlessness kept him moving all across the continents, and like some strange chesire cat, he would just show up again at the most unexpected times. We met when I found him thieving in our mansion during the dead of night. A light sleeper, I often wandered the halls at odd hours, and came across him deftly stealing all of the silver from the kitchen. I remember how his eyes glimmered dangerously at me as I stood in the doorway, a silly stuffed camel dangling at my side. He instantly raised his fists, ready to knock me down, but all I could do was grin wildly at him. Surrounded by mostly women my entire life, I was ecstatic to see a boy near my own age and couldn't care less about where he came from or the fact he was robbing us blind. I immediately dropped my stuffed animal and grabbed his hands in mine, almost possessively. We've been friends ever since. I guess if my parents had been more involved in my life, they might have wondered about a strange boy showing up at the breakfast table, but as was his special talent, Duo seamlessly integrated into the household. I later found out that he had stowed away on a ship from Italy. Wily little street urchin that he was, he had made a stealthy living robbing his way from the coast until he heard of our estate. He was quite content to let that lifestyle go, however, as he suddenly had one of the youngest, but wealthiest benefactors in the world...me. And oh, the fun we had. Not caring much for my lessons, he soon discovered his love of machinery, and began building motorbikes in the family garage. We spent many hours racing over the dunes with reckless abandon. But as he grew older, Duo would disappear more and more often. I never really knew where he went or what he was doing, but I'd hear my window latch open in the middle of the night, and I would know he had returned. He always insisted on breaking and entering, even though he knew he could very well have walked through the front door. But that was Duo, in a nutshell.

In truth, I had always been slightly jealous of my friend's carelessness and freedom. He was like a wild beast that, if caged, would surely die of misery, whereas I'd spent my entire life in a carefully constructed, albeit fancy, box. You can imagine my surprise when I learned that he had taken up an actual job and seemingly permanent residence in Paris. However, in my mind, there was only one thing that could tie a man like Duo to one spot for long.

"Enough about the machinery!" I chuckled, waiving my hand frantically. "Why don't you tell me about the new mademoiselle in your life, eh?"

"What?" Duo's voice went flat. His mouth clamped shut and he blinked at me in surprise. I narrowed my eyes with a sly grin. It wasn't often that Duo was speechless, and I was enjoying the moment.

"You know, your new lady friend! The one I'm sure works at the Opera House. Tell me, what does she do?"

Duo blinked again, his right eyebrow arching. "Well, aren't you just a little super, smarty sleuth!"

"I have my moments," I leaned back into the cushion, folding my hands together as if a person of vast intellect. Duo chuckled.

"Oh, I see I'll have to watch out for you now that you're all grown up. Her name's Hilde."

"Uh-huh?" I prompted.

"And you're right, she does work at the Opera House."

"And?"

"And she's a dancer."

"Of course, do go on."

"And she's...She's amazing!"

I rolled my eyes fluttering my eyelids dramatically.

"Nah, it's not like that!" Duo frantically tried to explain. "She's smart, and she always says whatever's on her mind, and she's..."

"Pretty?" I ventured.

"The most gorgeous woman I have ever seen! I don't really get what the big deal about ballet is, but I DO understand Hilde when she dances!"

"No doubt!" I could barely contain my maniacal grin.

Duo shot me a look, and removed his glove clearing his throat loudly.

"You, monsieur, have insulted me," he declared, slapping my face lightly with the white leather.

"Oh really, now?" I challenged, removing my own glove and giving him a good tap across the face.

"Yeah," he slapped me again.

"Yeah?" I mimicked, returning it.

"Yeah!"

"YEAH?"

That was all it took. Before I even knew what was happening, Duo was on me, pinning my arm behind my back. I made a valiant effort to escape the hold, but could barely move through all of my laughter. I'm sure people were probably puzzled to see the carriage bouncing all about, as we rolled down the lane.

"Give in, I win," Duo grunted, lifting my elbow in a most unnatural direction.

"Oh, ow!" I managed in my mirth. "Alright, alright, I give up!"

He released his hold, and I sank back into my seat, still laughing wildly. I felt a rather odd feeling in my chest, and the world was spinning slightly more than it should, but I was far too excited and having too much fun to notice such things. Duo sat back down as well, straightening out his jacket and trying to smooth out the dent one of my shoes had put in his hat.

"Jeez, Quatre, I'm too old to be doing stuff like that," he lamented as he popped his hat back to shape. He gave me a warm smile. "Guess you just bring out the kid in me."

I smiled too. I couldn't believe how much my friend had grown since the last I saw him. When I looked at him, I saw only traces of boyhood in his face, and yet even though we were almost the same age, I still felt like such a child. He was leaving me behind, and I felt a small twinge of sadness at the thought. But my somber broodings were soon cast aside as our carriage stopped in front of the magnificent entrance of the Grande Paris Opera House.

For those who have never seen the opera house in person, words cannot really do it justice. There is simply no other structure like it in all of Europe, and I remember thinking such as we ascended the stone steps through the doors. Such lush extravagance, the like which far exceeded any interior of my family's households, nearly made my head spin with wonder. I barely noticed Duo grabbing my gloves and hat and handing them to the valet with a nod. The color of gold pervaded the large corridor, full of intriguing paintings and designs. Elegant statues lit the grand central staircase with multi-tiered candle sticks, and their lights cast long shadows across the stonework's many intricate carvings. I was vaguely aware that Duo was dragging me up the steps and down a lengthy corridor to one of the box seats, number 5 to be exact. Upon taking our seats, I immediately caught sight of the enormous crystal chandelier hanging in the center of the auditorium.

"Simply amazing!" I whispered in awe. Duo chuckled at my reverence.

"Yeah, that sucker weighs about six tons and has a hundred and seven lights. A full grown man can walk on it quite comfortably."

"You've had to climb all the way up there?" I asked, paling at the thought of the incredible heights. Duo shook his head.

"You don't have to climb. There's a series of catwalks and scaffolding above a small door in the ceiling."

As he spoke, ushers began dimming the lights, leaving only the stage lamps lit. The orchestra began with their warm up, and I leafed impatiently through my program. The Marriage of Figuro...I couldn't care less, really. I was an expert with the violin and could hold my own at the piano just as well as anyone employed that night, and I say that in total, humble honesty. Truthfully, I had never found this particular opera to be enthralling. I was far more enchanted with the sheer grandeur of it all, and spent my time mostly ignoring the unfolding plot and glancing about with my spectacles. However, my attention was quickly returned to the stage when the chorus of ballerinas emerged. One quickly took the lead in front of the others; a lean, incredibly graceful girl with short dark hair. To confirm my suspicions, I received a jab from Duo's elbow, as he was far too busy watching to actually tell me this was his new sweetheart. I gave him an affirmative slap on his knee in response and continued glancing over the troupe. One ballerina was a little out of step, and the irregularity drew my attention to the pretty, young woman. She had long, wheat colored hair tied up in a bun, and seemed to move with a somewhat awkward grace that was quite endearing. I found myself cheering her on in my mind, and as if she could hear me, she fell back into step with the others at the very end of the dance. But as the dancers left the stage, I saw the girl look upwards, almost fearfully. I realized then that something was troubling the poor girl, and I wondered what could be so problematic as to distract her from her routine. Just then, the starlet of the opera made her grand entrance upon the stage, a strong, tall, confident looking young woman with the longest blond curls I had ever beheld. She was lovely, to be sure, but as she had a firm grasp on her place and self, she failed to hold my attention for too long. I found myself stealing glances again and again at the chandelier. It really was a wondrous thing, but what I found most intriguing, was the strange energy currently emanating from it.

You, dear reader, may or may not believe in the forces which flow from and through every creature and every object that exists in this world, but I cannot deny that I have felt very strong, very real, physical sensations whenever something unusual is astir. I am sure it has saved my life more than once, as I am able to avoid impending disasters, whether it be dubious house servants or faulty steps up wooden stairs, I just know when things are amiss.

I felt a twinge of pain in my chest and unconsciously grasped the front of my coat. And then, I heard it. A soft chuckle reverberated in my ears. How I could hear it through all the noise, I had no idea, but the voice at once captivated my full attention. It was a wonderfully soft, lilting sound, the most beautiful instrument ever to play, and at once made everything in the orchestra pit sound like frenzied discord, clanging and clashing. My eyes slowly rose in the direction of the voice; the very top of the chandelier. What I saw nearly made my heart stop beating in my chest.

Eyes...glowering brilliantly with a powerful rage that seemed to fill the entire room, glared back at me with such intensity, I felt I had been shot. They were bluer than my father's many sparkling sapphires in the family jewel collection, and shined with the dangerous light of a wild tiger. Shrouded in the darkness, he was almost completely invisible. Had he not directed his eyes toward me, I daresay he would have been almost impossible to see altogether. My own eyes widened in panic, as the realization that no one could have good intentions atop a six ton chandelier during a time like this, set in. I unconsciously leapt to my feet. Startled, Duo jumped from his seat and put a firm hand on my elbow.

"Quatre, what's wrong?"

I barely comprehended him, his voice seemed to echo across a vast distance. It was as if the man in black and I were the only two beings that had ever existed in this world, everything else began to fade away.

"Well then, 'Master' Winner, on with the show..."

The eyes vanished from my sight, and I felt a dizzying sensation pulling me into oblivion. I can't say for certain exactly what transpired after that. I dimly recall yelling in protest at what I somehow knew was going to happen, as I sank to the floor. I felt duo shaking me; he must have been utterly perplexed at my behavior. But, my current state was quickly forgotten, as there was the distinct sound of metal bending with a large SNAP, followed moments later by terrible screams as the enormous chandelier hastily descending into the crowd. The sound of a thousand, tiny crystals shattering was the last thing I remember, before everything went dark.

When I awoke, the opera house was still in a state of mass confusion, but thankfully, the guests had already left. Currently, members of the staff were scurrying about, trying to clean up the incredible mess left behind. I quickly sat up from the bench I had been apparently deposited on, and scanned the auditorium. With a massive sigh of relief, I saw no bloodied corpses amidst the terrible wreckage. Thank Allah for that! It was miracle that the massive lighting fixture had fallen right into the middle of the theater seats, yet no one was mortally wounded. I could hear a commotion on stage above me.

"I'm telling you, for the last time, there's not a chance in hell that the chandelier fell on it's own!" I recognized Duo's strained voice above the fray. "I was just up there yesterday, and the tubing was completely stable! You think I'd let something like that just dangle from the ceiling?"

My eyes flickered to the Sûreté Nationale inspector apparently questioning him. The expressionless, Oriental man was diligently copying every word my friend spoke in a tiny notebook, which only seemed to fluster Duo more. "So, Monsieur Maxwell, you claim that you are the only person responsible for the task of maintaining the chandelier?"

I didn't really like the sound of that, and neither did my friend. I could see Duo's hand clench into a fist, and found myself silently praying that he had matured enough to know not to attack police officers, especially when they were only doing their job.

"I don't think I like the song you're singing, Chang."

"It's Inspector Chang," the man corrected matter-of-factly, without any sign of annoyance. A part of me guessed this process had become very routine to him. "Alright, then," he cleared his throat and flicked his notebook closed, "Thank you for your cooperation, Monsieur. We'll speak again, shortly."

"Oh, goody, can't wait..." Duo muttered under his breath. Off to the right of the stage, the ballet chorus was still dressed in their costumes, and to my surprise, practicing for their next performance to the harsh sound of a walking stick keeping time with the floor. A stately woman dressed modestly in black with her brown hair pulled up was striking the floor rhythmically, helping the dancers keep time.

"Ladies, watch your fouettés!" her stern voice demanded total obedience. "Meganne! Left foot IN!"

I saw one of the dancers jump at hearing her name and quickly comply. The inspector slowly wandered next to the imposing woman, still writing in his notebook. For a moment, I thought he would walk right into her, but he stopped just short, all the while never looking up. "Madame Une, I presume?" he queried in a tone that sounded anything but interested in the answer.

"Correct, Monsieur," the thumping of her cane did not cease. Inspector Chang quirked an eyebrow, but did not ask her to cease.

"You are head mistress of the ballet troupe, as we've established before. Could you please give me your statement of what you think happened tonight?"

"I really could not tell you anything about it, Monsieur. I am sorry."

Inspector Chang's pen paused for a moment, and he regarded her with a questioning glance up and down. I could read the look on his face. She couldn't or wouldn't. "I see. So you haven't noticed anything amiss these past few days? No suspicious activity or changes in personnel?"

"No, Monsieur. Now, if you please, we are rehearsing. Direct your questions elsewhere," her voice sounded resolute. I thought I saw the inspector smirk ever so slightly, but his face was quickly deadpan again.

"Awfully odd time to rehearse, considering all that's happened tonight."

"Idle minds are troublesome things. The girls need to stayed occupied and focused," Madame Une did nothing to mask the annoyance in her voice.

"And I don't suppose they have an opinion on what occurred?" he ventured.

"NO."

"I know what happened!"

Everyone in the room turned to look at the young dancer with curly brown hair, and the rhythmic tapping of the stick stopped.

"Be silent, Catherine! You foolish girl!" Madame Une practically hissed. The dancer lowered her head with a wince at her instructor's severe tone. But it was too late. Chang was already at the girl's side.

"What did you see, Mademoiselle? Please tell me everything in exact detail."

Catherine's eyes flickered back and forth between the young officer and the stone faced woman; her fear clearly visible. Suddenly, an completely beguiling smile spread across the young officer's face, as he leaned closer and asked again with a softer, more comforting tone, "Please, my dear, tell me. Everything will be just fine."

I had to force myself not to snort at the obvious ruse, but it had the desired effect. Perhaps there was more to this Chang fellow than I originally thought. Catherine gazed at him quite mesmerized for a moment before blurting out, "It was the Opera Ghost, Monsieur!"

A sudden hush fell over the room, even though so many people occupied it. I thought I heard the faint sound of someone chuckling in the distance, but couldn't be sure. Madame Une put a hand over her mouth, while Chang threw both of his palms upward in apparent defeat.

"Not this sorry mess again!" he practically growled. "Gods in the heavens, I don't know what to make of you people! Are you just going to insist on protecting this prankster? When are you going to tell me what's going on? I should arrest the whole lot of you for aiding and abetting a criminal!"

"Frauline's not lying, Inspector!" the girl I now knew to be Hilde, and apparently German, stood to challenge him. "We have all seen things at one time or another! There really is a ghost!"

"You actually believe that, Hilde?" Duo gaped.

Hilde narrowed her eyes at my poor friend, and crossed her arms in reply. "Well, Herr Maxwell, why don't you elaborate on your brilliant theories? Oh, wait, you have none, right?"

Duo stalked over to stand nose to nose with his peeved lover, and I suddenly had a sneaky suspicion that their relationship was always a bit stormy. Somehow, though, it seemed fitting.

"As a matter of fact, I DO! Barton has keys to every door and passage way in this place! Maybe someone stole them and made copies! Or maybe they're just really that good at picking locks!"

"Oh, sure, so good that he could get all the was past back stage, up into the catwalks, and on to the chandelier without anyone noticing?" Hilde practically rolled her eyes.

"And my brother never lets his keys leave his side!" Catherine interjected.

"Where is Barton, anyway?" Chang asked, glancing around. "I have to get his stupid, ghost laden, statement too, since he is the concierge."

"I am right here, Inspector." I leapt to my feet at the cool, calm voice emanating from the shadow of a large curtain directly to my left. I blushed furiously at how badly I had startled and was favored with a slightly amused quirk of the strange man's lips as he made his way onto the stage floor. I could not believe I had sat there for that long without noticing another human being standing only four feet away from me! It was about this time the rest of the room became aware of my return to consciousness.

"QUATRE! God, man, are you alright!" Duo was by me in an instant, shaking my shoulders so violently, I thought my head was going to fall off! "You scared the sh-, you know, the living HELL out of me!"

I gripped his hands and willed them to stop rattling my brains. "I'm terribly sorry for the trouble," I began, gently extricating my limbs. He was not letting go without a fight!

"What are you apologizing for? Hell of an evening to treat my guest to!" he huffed. "I'm the sorry one, here!"

I shook my head with a smile and let him pull me up the steps toward the rest of the crowd. Chang was currently circling the man called Barton like he was some sort of prey. The fact that Barton was several inches taller didn't faze the inspector in the least. But then again, the fact that a very frustrated member of law enforcement was out for blood seemed to be just as ineffective against the black clad, lean figure. He quietly stood with his arms folded and head bowed, looking more bored than anything, as Chang continued to interrogate him.

"Where were you when the chandelier fell?"

"Making my rounds with the box seats."

"Don't suppose you happen to miss your keys at any point, eh?"

"No, monsieur."

"And who do you think would commit such an atrocious act?"

Barton quirked an eyebrow in amusement. "No one was hurt...badly," he added as an afterthought, and I saw his visible, green eye glance my way behind his hair.

"Trowa Barton," Wufei was grinding his teeth. "No one was hurt this time! What if it were to happen again?"

"We can only hope for the best," he said with a small shrug. It was clear the inspector was about to hit the infuriatingly dead-pan concierge, but right before his fist made contact, Trowa produced a stationary note from his pocket.

"And what the hell is this?" Chang's fury was momentarily abated.

"It is a note."

I quickly covered my mouth to contain a chuckle. The inspector snatched the piece of paper, completely giving up on talking with the young man. His dark eyes quickly scanned the script, and he began to unconsciously crumple it with his hand in anger. A moment of silence passed. Chang tossed the note on the ground, and folded his arms. I thought I heard him mutter something about "useless people" on his way. Catherine quickly fetched the note from the floor, whereupon Madame Une immediately took it from her hand.

"Last chair in first section violin was not replaced in a timely enough manner. I expect you will garner more respect for the arts in the future."

Everyone's mouth fell open.

"Who the hell...?" Duo half whispered.

"It is signed, 'Ghost'," Madame Une said solemnly.

I felt the color immediately drain from my face. I can't say I've ever been the type to fear something I did not understand, but whatever presence I had beheld that evening on the chandelier struck a nerve at the core of being. Duo immediately noticed by change in demeanor, and gripped my arm. "Quatre, are you sure you're alright? You look pretty white as a sheet."

"I am pretty white, Duo," I teased. It seemed he was having none of it, so I continued on. "I'm perfectly fine. You know me, I get these spells every now and again. They are quick to pass, no need for concern."

He looked at me, critically, but let me go. "No...I didn't know...and I think I know you pretty well," his voice sounded doubtful, as he folded his arms. "Come to think of it, you were yelling at someone, right before..."

I smiled at him, tightly, trying desperately to convey to him with my body language that I really didn't want to discuss this now in front of everyone and the inspector. I even gave little shakes of my head, and blinked at him deliberately, all the while the fake grin plastered on my face. Everyone on stage was glancing our way, curiously.

"Are you sure you're okay? You still look a little funny. What were you yelling at, anyway?"

To Duo's defense, subtlety had never really been part of his vocabulary; I should have known he was far too direct for such nonverbal cues.

"It was nothing..." I mumbled, glancing away. "I thought I saw something, I guess, but there was nothing there. Could we possibly discuss this later? I think you're right, my head still feels a little funny...," I touched my forehead lightly with my fingertips for dramatic effect.

"Of course, Q-," Duo began, but was quickly interrupted by the Inspector appearing at our sides.

"Evening, Monsieur, I am Inspector Chang, and am in charge of tonight's investigation. Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?" His tone was polite, and calm. I knew better from the character I had witnessed only moments ago, and suppressed a smirk.

"Quatre Raberba Winner," I took his hand, amiably. "I am in town visiting my friend, Monsieur Maxwell." I gave a nod in Duo's direction.

"Sayyed Winner, sole heir to the Winner Company from the East!" Wufei exclaimed enthusiastically as he took my hand in a firm shake. "I'm very sorry to hear about your late father. He was a most honorable man."

I blinked at him with shock. Apparently, this fellow was a little more well informed than I previously thought. However, he was obviously a Chinese man in Paris, so I guessed he must have already seen and experienced much of the world.

"Thank you for your kind words, Inspector. Your French is most impeccable; how many languages do you speak?" I immediately tried to sidetrack from the torrent of questions I knew where coming.

"I speak FIVE, Monsieur!" His chest puffed slightly at my praise. "I hope to learn more!"

"Ah, you must be a great scholar. I can easily see that you are a lover of knowledge," I was also gleaming that he must have come from a working class family if he had to scour the globe to obtain an education first hand. It really was quite admirable, and I truly took a liking to the Oriental Inspector, though I still did not wish to be raked across the coals with questions.

"Indeed! I first came to France to study in the Bibliothèque de la Sorbonne."

"Libraries are truly man's greatest testament to existence."

"YES! That is exactly what I believe!" Wufei's eyes were practically misting with joy about the subject. I smiled, dare I say, a bit evilly.

"If you like, my father has left me one of the largest libraries in the Middle East. It contains over two million books, manuscripts, and documents from the furthest corners of the globe. They are at your leisure, whenever you can spare the time."

I thought his eyes would pop out of his head with shock. "M-me? Really? Merci, Merci, Monsieur!" Chang bowed again and again.

I chuckled and put my hand on his shoulder. "Please, it would be my pleasure to have you as my most honored guest. Now, if you excuse me, I think I need something to drink. My head is still a little foggy."

"Oh, yes, of course. Do excuse me," Wufei quickly returned from the heavenly clouds he had momentarily ascended to.

"We will meet again, soon, my friend," I gave his shoulder a pat before walking past him. Duo quickly followed, a maniacal grin spreading from ear to ear. Wufei, still dumbfounded by my offer, quietly stumbled out the auditorium, staring blankly ahead. As I glanced toward him exiting, I felt a little guilty for using his humble background to manipulate him. I thought I heard laughter echoing above me and startled. Duo's loud guffaws soon brought my attention back to the stage.

"Quatre! What the hell? That was the most amazing thing I've ever seen!" Duo grasped my hands and shook them enthusiastically. I smiled, faintly. "You actually got Inspector Chang to LEAVE! He didn't even ask for your statement! Hey...," he suddenly let my hands drop. "You can't control people's minds, right? No black magic, crazy, Middle Eastern tricks?" He waived his arms around in what looked like some strange, interpretive dance, and I chuckled.

"No, Duo," I gave a little sigh. "No magic, just money and a name..."

He blinked at my blunt honesty. Sensing the darkness in my tone, he smiled and gave me a pat on the back. "Come on, there's someone I want you to meet."

I was suddenly reminded that we were attracting most of the attention in the room, and smiled sheepishly as Duo led me over to the ballet troupe, who all stood from their seats on the floor at my approach. I knew, of course, whom Duo's intent was on.

"Quatre, I'd like you to meet the lovely, talented, enchanting Mademoiselle Hilde Schebeiker!"

After giving Duo a squint for the lengthy title, Hilde curtsied elegantly towards me. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Monsieur. Duo speaks of no one but you. I am most indebted to you and your family for looking after my foolish boyfriend, until now. I am sure that, without your intervention, he would be in a gutter or in jail."

"HEY!"

"Oh, the pleasure is mine!" I forced back the laugh threatening to escape at such a wicked comment and bowed in return. "I'm so happy Duo has met such a wonderful companion in life."

"Tch! Wonderful companion most of the time," Duo muttered, turning his face away in a pout. Hilde giggled at his forlornness and hugged his arm.

"Duo, my love, I am joking!" She planted a kiss on his cheek, which seemed to immediately lift his spirits. Hilde then gestured towards me. "Monsieur,"

"Just Quatre, please."

"Oh...Vell, ahem, WELL then, Quatre! I'd like you to meet the rest of the girls! This is the best dance troupe on the Western continent! Ladies, this is Quatre Winner, son of the late Sheik, Zayeed Winner! Please, show your respect!"

The ladies all curtsied, but I was met mostly with blank stares. Turning a little red, I bowed. "Evening, ladies...um, it's very nice to meet you," I stammered out, awkwardly.

"Oh, and ladies!" Duo leaned on my shoulder, heavily, forcing me to take a step forward to maintain balance. "He's completely single, so dig right in!" Everyone in the room's mouths fell open, including mine.

"Duo!" I hissed. "What are you doing?"

"Helping, of course!" he whispered back. Stepping to the side and throwing out his arms as if displaying a prized cow, he bellowed loudly, "That's right, ladies! We have here one hot, little prince who gets mighty cold on those, oh so lonesome, nights in the dessert, so step right up! Show him some love!"

To my surprise, girlish shrieking erupted, and I was immediately surrounded by a flock of, apparently, love-starved dancers.

"Monsieur Winner! Are you really a prince?"

"From the dessert?"

"But your skin is so fair!"

"It's because servants hold umbrellas over him all day long, stupid! Don't you ever look at picture books?"

"And they feed you grapes all day long right into your mouth, so you never have to touch them with your hands!"

"Do you really have harems in the Middle East, Monsieur?"

"And pet monkeys?"

"Oh, oh, and camels! How many camels do you have?"

"Uh, I...er...um..." My mind whirled around all the questions, just as the small crowd of women milled around me.

"I'll bet the dessert looks beautiful at night."

I stilled and glanced at the girl who had just spoke. It was the distracted dancer from earlier. She stayed towards the back of the group, hugging the sides of her arms, as if cold.

"Yes, it is very lovely," I smiled warmly, and in return, she favored me with a distant one. On impulse, I gave a slight nod towards the ceiling and quirked an eyebrow. To my delight, she seemed to pick up on what I was asking, and paled considerably, backing away. This girl definitely knew something.

"Please excuse me, I have to go," the dancer almost whispered, quickly running from the stage to the back rooms. I looked after her, curiously, while disentangling myself from the small crowd. Duo followed my line of sight and shook his head.

"Strange girl, that one," he sighed. "Shame, really. She's such a pretty thing, but I wouldn't set your sights on her, Q-man," he leaned in and let his voice drop to an exaggerated whisper, "She's a little cookie in the head!"

"What is her name?" I asked, ignoring his misinterpretation of my interest, as well as the looping motion his index finger was doing next to his temple.

"She is called Relina. Relina Dorland," Hilde informed me. "Her father vas a great violinist in the orchestra, many years ago. She practically grew up in the Opera House, but for the last year, the poor creature...well...she's been distracted."

"That's putting it mildly," Duo snorted.

"I see," I rubbed my chin in thought, and suddenly became aware of two low voices to the right of the stage. It was Madame Une and the man called Trowa. They were conversing quietly, but upon catching my gaze, Trowa frowned, and after giving Madame Une a curt bow, retreated into the darkness. Well, rat's knees...

"All right, ladies!" Madame Une clapped her hands and took up her cane. "Now that the , ahem, _investigation_, has concluded for the evening," this elicited several giggles, "time to retire! Come now, to your rooms, tout de suite!"

She was met with a chorus of groans and protests, but the dancers quickly formed behind her. After curtsying again in our direction, they trailed their instructor off the stage, like pink, fluffy ducklings. Hilde kissed Duo on the cheek, and held her hand out to me again, which I took.

"I must away now, but it was so good to finally meet you, monsieur. Velcome to Paris."

* * *

><p>Tried as I might, I could not stop my knee from bouncing as I sat on a hardwood bench in the comparatively sterile hallway that led to the owner's office. The motion was causing the old, wooden bench upon which I sat, to vibrate, and my violin case rattled against the hard surface. I could not remember the last time I had been so nervous! But I'd best explain the circumstances which led me to Monsieur Treize's door that morning. It had been a scant two days since the night of the chandelier catastrophe, and I was shocked and amazed that regular routine within the opera house was resumed as soon as the last piece of shattered crystal was swept off the floor. Duo was back to work as well, and at my request, he let me accompany him to see more of the fantastic place since my first visit had been a little haphazard. I had been intrigued by all of the ghoulish business from the night before, and secretly promised myself that I would, indeed, find the secret behind the mysterious ghost of the Paris Opera House. But before that, I decided to make myself useful by filling in last chair so that the orchestra could resume normal practice. Which, of course, meant an audition.<p>

My palms were beginning to sweat; wonderful. I rubbed them against my trousers a little too vigorously and closed my eyes in frustration with myself.

"Oh, come now! Such self criticism! Why the concern, since you have already defeated yourself?"

My eyes snapped open with fury. Was I trying to sabotage myself? The realization only brought more inward anger, and I felt just as helpless as before. The cycle of fear and anger began dancing over and over again in my head, and I felt as though I were shrinking into my seat. Soon, my legs would not be able to touch the floor, and soon after that, I would fall through one of the large cracks in the wooden plank. I was feeling very small, indeed.

"What a stupid child!"

I leapt to my feet in alarm. The sneer was reverberating in my ears, not my mind! My eyes nervously roamed over the hallway ceilings and walls as my heart began to beat heavily. Where was the voice coming from?

"Monsieur Winner, is everything all right?"

I'm sure I looked quite mad as I spun around to face the inquirer; a kindly looking woman, in her later years, poised with one hand cautiously on the door knob. Obviously, she was quite ready to slam and lock the door should whatever had me so frightened appear. I smoothed down the fly-aways in my hair and attempted to clear my throat.

"Quite!" I squeaked, rather lamely.


End file.
